Birthdays Come with Explosives
by Casey 'Flame' Wolfe
Summary: When you're a burned spy, birthdays can't ever be simple. [Slash]


**A/N: ****So, I've never tackled a Burn Notice fic before- though I'm a huge fan of Michael/Jesse. Not to mention the desire I have to see a F&F crossover where Michael can run into- and fall in bed with- Brian and/or Carter… Hey, I can't be the only one. Anyway, I happened to spot on FB that today is Jeffrey Donovan's (Michael) and Coby Bell's (Jesse) birthdays today and well, I couldn't resist doing SOMETHING for the boys. Thanks to Hellbells for the rapid beta on this. Enjoy!**

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"Seriously Michael?" Fiona asked in exasperation.

"What?" He didn't see an issue with his gifting decisions.

"Well, I dunno," she continued sarcastically, "maybe get him something that _doesn't _have to do with _work_?"

Michael raised a brow, looking down at the custom 1911 he procured. "Who could say no to this?" At her incredulous look he sighed, trying to come up with last minute alternatives. Honestly, he couldn't think of something better suited than what he had bought. It had pearl grips and hand engraving on the slide for crying out loud! "Fi…" he ended up venturing, "Do you still have those C-4 and thermite components in your trunk?"

Fiona threw her hands in the air with an exaggerated groan of frustration. "I give up." She went into his fridge, stealing a yogurt while ignoring his glare for doing so. "So what time is Madeline having this party?"

Michael grumbled, leaving the handgun on the counter as he went to go find something suitable to wear. "Couple hours. Jesse's supposed to be finishing that job with Sam." It had been a simple enough assignment that the pair had been handling on their own while he and Fi had been tending to other matters. It was getting wrapped up and then all that was really left was the final meet with the clients.

That being said, he didn't expect the phone to ring. "Michael!" Jesse sounded out of breath. "Umm, ya gotta minute?"

As soon as Michael heard gunfire on the other end of the line, he was throwing his tee-shirt back on and sliding down the rail of the stairs, making a break for the gun and Fiona. "Where are you?" he demanded, looking around for the holster he'd had done to match the weapon.

He was clipping the holster onto his belt, sliding the firearm home as Jesse answered, "Down at the warehouse off Industrial." Jessed cursed, firing a few shots. "Someone must have tipped these assholes off. They've got us penned in."

"Fi and I are on our way," he answered. As always, she had been wise enough not to ask questions and had followed him out the door. They were already slipping into the Charger and Michael hadn't missed that she'd thrown something from her trunk into his.

"Hurry," was all Jesse replied before ending the call.

"Was that the C-4?" Michael inquired, gunning the engine out into traffic.

"Yeah…"

"Good. We may need it." He filled her in on the way, smirking when she pulled a shotgun from under the passenger seat- he wasn't even going to ask how it got there. She just started loading the 870 Express with 00 Buckshot from the glove compartment- again, he wasn't going to ask.

There was a small army of men with automatic weapons when they pulled up. "Wasn't this supposed to be a simple job?" Fiona mused, pumping the shotgun.

Michael scoffed- there was no such thing with them it seemed. Honestly, he wasn't shocked. "I'll try to get around to a back door. Can you create a distraction?"

She smiled sweetly. "Can you pop the trunk again?"

Shaking his head with a wry grin, he knew that was exactly where Fiona's mind would go. Leaving her to it, he left their cover to head for the warehouse. It was a decent sized building and the men were gathered at the open bay doors of the loading docks, completely missing his approach. Given the location they were firing on, Michael had a good idea of where to try and gain entry.

He found a side door that was locked, picking it without issue and peeking inside. To get to Sam and Jesse, it would mean going through open ground, which was presumably why they hadn't made it to this exit themselves. With Fiona's distraction though…

Right on cue, he heard the explosion. One of the cars parked out front went up in flames, drawing their attention. Ducking inside, Michael made a run for it, sliding behind a stack of crates. "Jess? Sam?" he hissed.

"Yo Mikey," Sam greeted, a head popping around another stack of bullet-ridden crates.

Jesse poked his head over the top of some containers that were right in front of Michael. "Dude, I'm so glad to see you right now." He held up his handgun pointedly, the slide locked back- out of ammo.

Michael drew the 1911 without thought, flipping his hold to offer up to Jesse. "Here." As he then pulled out his own SIG Sauer, he looked to Sam, "How many you got?"

"Half a mag," he answered. The burned spy couldn't say he was surprised they'd both gone through all their spare magazines trying to hold back all those men. "Plan?"

"Wait for the next boom and run like hell for the south exit."

Both men nodded, not having to wait long for the secondary explosion. They moved as one, Jesse leaping over the crate he was behind to head out first, gun at the ready. Michael waited until Sam passed him before following. The gunmen, too busy dealing with their roasted vehicles, didn't notice them until they were almost to the Charger. Not that it did them any good when Fiona detonated the last car, close enough that it knocked all of them on their asses.

"Good job Fi," Michael breathed, looking from the fiery inferno she'd once again left in her wake back to her across the roof. Her only answer was to grin.

With Sam and Jesse safely in the back seat, Michael slid in the car, shaking his head while Fiona turned in her seat to look back at the disheveled pair. "You get to explain to Madeline why we're late," was all she said, smiling at their twin groans as she turned back around.

"You're just plain evil sometimes," Michael mused as they pulled away, "aren't you Fi?"

Her shrug and smile, along with all the men's sighs, said it all.

* * *

Getting out of the car at his mother's, Michael couldn't help but notice they were all a little worse for wear. Well, except for maybe Fi, who linked her arm with Sam's, dragging him off to face the music of a miffed Madeline. Michael wasn't sure whether to laugh or grimace at that particular fate.

"Damn…" Jesse murmured, running his hands over his face as he leaned back against the Charger. "Sorry 'bout this man."

"Don't worry about it." He smirked then, laying an arm on the roof of the car as he pressed against it sideways to look at Jesse. "Besides, what would a birthday be without a bit of gunfire and explosions?" Jesse laughed at that, shaking his head. "By the way," he continued, "Fi used part of your present for that light show."

Jesse furrowed his brows at that. "Damn woman. I couldda had fun with that shit."

Michael smiled. "Yeah, well, I kept her away from the other one." To Jesse's questioning look, Michael reached over to take the 1911 from the man's waistband where he'd stashed it. "This is yours."

Jesse's face lit up. "No way." He looked it over carefully, not having had the opportunity to do so earlier. "This is… wow." He turned it over, taking it all in before looking back up at Michael. "Thanks. It's perfect." Grabbing hold of Michael's shirt, he reeled him in closer until their lips met.

Smiling, Michael stepped closer. "You're welcome." He slotted their mouths together, deepening the kiss. It wasn't until he felt something pressed against his stomach that he stopped. Pulling away, Michael's brows furrowed as he saw a knife handle. "What's this?"

Jesse pressed it into his hand. "Happy Birthday Michael," he murmured.

Michael flicked the release, smiling as the switchblade snapped open from the front. He turned it over- a Benchmade Infidel. "Nice," he complimented. It wasn't his usual style, but it was a very nice tactical knife all the same. Still, he couldn't resist teasing his lover, raising a brow as he gestured between the gun and blade, "So, I got you _that _and I get…"

"Oh, got you this too," Jesse answered absentmindedly, pulling a different blade from his pocket.

Michael's eyes lit up, seeing the familiar shape of an Emerson Karambit. The folding claw blades were his favorite, and not cheap. It was just too bad he kept losing them all the time. His grin only grew, leaning in to place a kiss on the other's lips. "Thanks Jess. These are perfect."

Jesse's mischievous look when he pulled away had him worried. "You're welcome." He smacked Michael's shoulder as he added, "Oh, and I may have hidden more around the loft too." Grinning then, he started to walk off to the house.

Michael's face fell, turning on his heels to follow. "What? Wait… Jess… What do you…? Where did you put them? Jess!"

/End

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**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this quick little fic. A quick note on the blades- Michael uses a Benchmade Infidel in an episode but most of the time if he uses a knife it's an Emerson Karambit. And, while both Michael and Jesse use SIG Sauers as their sidearm most of the time, I can't help but think a 1911 suits Jesse- hence choosing it as his gift.**


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